Tuesday

27 November 2018

Where we're at with this guy is probably "guardedly optimistic." He's eating close to 2/3 of normal, he's gotten some good sleep, and he's been allowed to sleep with me at night so I can check on him frequently.

He hasn't been allowed in the bedroom at night for a couple of years because, frankly, he's a pain in the ass at night and picks then to tell me all about his day. It became a matter of my health over humoring him, so I started closing the door at night...and he got over it quickly.

But since last Wednesday night, the door's been open, and he has free access to me. He did the whole meatloaf-cat thing for two nights, not really sleeping but not bugging me, either. Friday night, after getting meds, he slept like a rock, right on top of me, barely moving.

But the last couple of nights he's treated his access to the bedroom like a pre-teen sleepover, moving all over the bed (and me, mainly) and last night he decided my head would make a fine bed. Monday morning he woke me at 3 am for food, and this morning it was 5:15, and he's eaten several times since.

The key now is to see if he keeps his appetite up through today and into tomorrow, because the appetite stimulant should be out of his system sometime today. We were able to get 4 more doses to give him at home if we need it, as well as nausea medication.

I am less worried about him suddenly dying now that I was 5 days ago, but I'm not entirely convinced he's okay. My gut says this is the start of something chronic, which scared the crap out of me until a couple friends with cats Max's age and who have the same medical issues weighed in, and they're managing it just fine. It might mean doing what I said I never would--putting him through anything that stresses him--but I'll weigh the benefit of the stress over the good it will do him before actually doing anything.

Max is that unique creature--the furball that can easily be said to be The One. I've loved all the pets I've had before, probably to an outsider's idea of extreme, and we've done everything we could for them, but Max is the one that's going to hurt the most when he goes. I was ready before with Hank and Dusty, knowing what they'd already been through, but I don't think I'll ever be okay with Max dying.

I once promised him--when he was so sick before--that I'd never make him do anything he truly hated in order to keep him around, but I suspect I'll break that promise. I'd never let him truly suffer, but I may subject him to some medical things he'll hate me for.

We do what we have to until they decide it’s time to go. It’s never ever easy. I know. I miss my baby every day. He was The One. There will never be another like him and I will be eternally grateful he chose me. I hope Max decides to stick around for a long time. We all love him. 😊

I am so glad Max is doing better now. Whatever temporary discomfort you may decide is needed for quality life, will be the right choice. You would never let him suffer, so though he might complain a bit, you always have his best interests at heart. For example, I had to give Clarkie fluids at home three times a week for a few years. He wasn't happy about it, but it took 10 minutes and the other 23:50 of his day was peachy. He was kind of resigned to it, and it was totally worth it.

I think part of the devastation I feel when I think of losing Spitty (and he's 14 now) is that, although he is far from the cuddliest, most loving or fun cat I ever had, he is the one I endowed with a personality, the one I gave a voice to, the one who frankly seems to have become a part of ME that I will mourn the loss of along with mourning the loss of him when that time comes. I've never put so much of my 'self' into creating a personality for a kitty before. And you and Max write books together! The blog is kind of a double-edged sword--so much fun, but hard to contemplate the loss.

I hope Max has some good times still to spend with you--but maybe not overnights, MOL. XOXOXO

I have the feeling he will tell you, just like my Shaggy did. When he began his decline I got him all kinds of foods to stimulate his appetite and make it easier to eat. He'd nibble here and there. At his last visit to the vet he had the"quality of life" talk with me and I learned how to do sub q fluids because he was dehydrated. Near the end of the 2nd week of fluids as I was pinching his skin up to insert the needle he turned and looked at me with with eyes that said "thank you for loving me but this is enough." He was gone a few days later....and now I'm crying my eyes out recounting this. He was The One, my Beloved.-Lynne

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Doctor Who Quotes

There's something that doesn't make sense. Let's go and poke it with a stick.

We're all stories in the end. Just make it a good one, eh?

Every time you see them happy, you remember how sad they're going to be. And it breaks your heart. Because what's the point in them being happy now if they're going to be sad later? And the answer is, of course, because they're going to be sad later.

The way I see it, every life is a pile of good things and bad things. The good things don’t always soften the bad things, but vice versa the bad things don’t always spoil the good things and make them unimportant.

Do you know, in nine hundred years of time and space I’ve never met anyone who wasn’t important before.

If it’s time to go, remember what you’re leaving. Remember the best. My friends have always been the best of me.